


Worst Patient? Worst Patient.

by annamariestark



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 13:54:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19947250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annamariestark/pseuds/annamariestark
Summary: Julian Devorak vs. Modern Medicine and a nurse!SO who isn't taking his shit.





	Worst Patient? Worst Patient.

**Author's Note:**

> This is straight up self-indulgent. Don't judge me.

Julian had been sick for a week. Cough, sore throat, sniffles, a mild fever. You’d never seen a more pitiful patient. At your orders, he’d (mostly, kind of) stayed in bed, though you constantly were finding him sneaking around the house instead of resting. He generally obeyed your orders and returned to his appointed post in bed, nestled into the center of a pile of pillows, tissues aplenty on one bedside table, a collection of empty cups and plates piled on the other.

“What is this?” Julian sniffled as you thrust a cup into his hand. He peered down at the pink liquid. Bless him, you thought. His left eye was a shade of red to rival his right, no matter how much medication he took to help keep his symptoms at bay.

“It’s Pedialyte. Drink it.” He took a large gulp and grimaced.

“It tastes like sadness.” You laughed and stuck a bendy straw into it.

“Now you can feel fancy while you drink your sadness. _Drink_.”

He eyed you suspiciously, frowning when you reached for the cough syrup bottle.

“No, not that again,” he whined. “All of these medicines taste disgusting.”

“This from the man who drinks Salty Bitters like it’s his job.”

“How about a nice leech instead? Leeches would help.”

“Julian, leeches haven’t been used in medicine in ages. They’re not best practice anymore.” You laughed again as he seemed to absolutely deflate at this news.

“They… what?!” He accepted the dose of cough syrup, glaring at you as he swallowed it. He followed it with another large gulp of the Pedialyte and you giggled as he sputtered.

“Those flavors… do not… go… together…” He choked. “Do you do this shit to your patients at work?”

“Yes, but they’re generally more grateful and a lot less whiny, _Doctor_.” You smirked at him.

“Oh. Well, thank you, _nurse_.” He made a dramatic flourish with his hands, hitting himself in the face and knocking his eyepatch askew.

“Go the fuck to sleep, Julian.” You rolled your eyes and left the room.

He waited ‘til you’d left the room before slipping from bed, taking another swig of cough syrup straight from the bottle, shuffling to the door and peeking out to see if you were gone. As an afterthought, he grabbed the bottle of cough syrup and stuck it in the pocket of his robe, along with the straw from his now empty cup of Pedialyte. It was mostly full still and weighed down the robe. He wandered down the hall to the den, perching in an armchair, picking up a random book from the table beside him. He uncapped the medication bottle, sticking the straw into it, and propped his feet up, balancing the book on his lap and taking occasional sips as he read. Before long, the words were swimming on the page. He glanced down at the bottle and found it empty.

_Oops. I'm in trouble._

Sure enough, you rounded the corner into the den seconds later. Julian turned to you, grinning crookedly.

“Hey, I uh… I uh… Uh.” He giggled. “I. I couldn’t sleep,” he insisted, trying to hide the bottle in his pocket, but not before you saw it and swiped it from his slender fingers.

“I swear to god, Julian. Did you drink this whole thing?” He laughed as you glowered at him.

“No. Maybe.” He snickered. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed.” He winced as you took him by the ear and dragged him to his feet.

“Back to bed.”

“You’re no fun,” he slurred. “I feel fabulous. Fabulous. Fabulous?” He tested the word several times. “Fabulous is a funny word,” he cackled. You poked him in the ribs and he squirmed, laughing harder. “You could say I’m a fabulous patient.” 

“I could say a lot of things,” you mumbled, tugging him along now by the sleeve of his robe. “I would likely not say that.” You reached the bedroom and stripped him of the robe, all but pushing him into bed. He giggled more, turning to pull you insistently with him into the pile of pillows. You sighed heavily and acquiesced, lying back and letting him rest his head on your shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“I love you,” he chuckled, nuzzling your shoulder. Moments later, he was snoring softly, and you thanked the gods that he’d been drinking ‘nighttime’ cough syrup.

“I love you too,” you glanced down at his sleeping form. “Even if you are the absolute worst patient.”


End file.
